stranger than your sympathy
by ohlaladisco
Summary: A one shot in which Blaine Anderson has been spending a lot of time at the Hummel-Hudson residence and is questioned by Burt, who asks questions that Blaine misinterprets to mean that he has overstayed his welcome. Angst, angst, angst!


Prompt: Blaine starts spending more and more time at the Hummel-Hudson residence, and when Burt brings it up, Blaine misinterprets the questions to mean that he has overstayed his welcome.

It started out innocently enough.

Burt had asked Blaine to be his football game buddy since Finn was out of town and Kurt (not much of a football goer to begin with) was, of course, off living his graduated life in New York with Rachel Berry - the Barbara Streisand of our time.

So Blaine politely, and more than willingly, obliged.

And so their new-found tradition continued throughout the year. Once football season ended they would keep up with whichever sport was important at the time.

Blaine enjoyed their time together, and found that Burt was actually great company, which possibly shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did, because Burt after all was the father of his ex - whom he still loved more than anything else in the world. He was still too afraid to admit this to Burt during their hang-outs, but Blaine had a feeling that the older man could sense it anyway, and so he kept silent on the matter - enjoying what time they had to do the things they had bonded over since Christmas (sports, trash-talk banter, and peering expectantly at Carol or Sam each time one or the other walked through the front door, hoping that they carried some form of delicious snack and in Sam's case - additional sport going banter along with his exceptionally hilarious impressions).

So it came to be that Blaine Anderson began taking any excuse to visit with the Hudmels.

His own home life wasn't exactly what you'd call stellar, what with his father bashing him verbally for being - what was that delightful word that got thrown around his home again? oh right - a faggot. Blaine physically cringed in on himself every time his father tossed it bitingly in his son's direction. He should be used to it by now, Blaine thought hopelessly, but he wasn't - and probably never would be. It was a shame that his family still meant so much to him, because his family certainly didn't seem to share the sentiments.

But the Hudmel household, especially Burt, most certainly did - and Blaine took advantage as his home life continued it's downward spiral, knowing that soon it would plummet and he wouldn't have Kurt to catch him before he hit bottom. So now, at least there was someone in the picture. If it wasn't Kurt, it might as well be his family, though Blaine felt exceedingly guilty for being able to be around them more than Kurt could himself. He tried fruitlessly to get the notion out of his brain, but it refused to go and so Blaine simply pushed it aside into a far, well hidden corner, and continued to become more and more attached to a family that wasn't really his.

"So Blaine," Burt Hummel said amicably one Saturday afternoon.

"Yessir?" Blaine slurred, still intensely engrossed in what was happening on the television screen.

"Stop that sir nonsense, bud - I'm Burt around here, no excuses!"

The older man joked around constantly, taking any chance he got to crack another obnoxious pun or mock some kind of hysterical incident to the tee. Blaine knew that a big part of this was the older man's way of masking the fear that centered around his recent diagnosis, but it still made Blaine smile none-the-less, and he knew Burt wouldn't have it any other way.

Lost deep in thought, Blaine flinched in surprise as the TV was turned off suddenly.

Blaine looked over at Burt with questioning eyes, as he noted the man had been staring at him all along.

"How've you been?" Burt asked suddenly, and Blaine wasn't sure how to respond.

"Fine?" Blaine answered hesitantly, and began to bite at his bottom lip.

"It's just that I've noticed you've been hanging around here more recently," Burt said thoughtfully. "And I wouldn't bring it up at all if I didn't think it was important or that it meant something might be up..." Burt continued, and Blaine became increasingly uncomfortable with the topic.

"I don't ask many personal questions Blaine, I guess that's just who I am, but I really would like to know how things are - what you've been up to and such. We are friends, after all - am I right?"

Blaine nodded, but hid the motion so that it was almost invisible.

"So," Burt asked - seeming not to notice Blaine's increasing discomfort.

I've overstayed my welcome, Blaine thought to himself as the older man took a minute to pause and observe the younger boy's reaction. Or perhaps, Blaine thought silently, he was just afraid to admit the truth out loud - because then it would be real, and if one person knew, everyone else was bound to follow. They'd know the pathetic, inconceivable truth of this matter.

They would know that Blaine Anderson was afraid to go home.

That he would rather be encompassed by his ex-boyfriend's home and family than face the reality of his own, and the thought made Blaine's stomach squirm.

Suddenly Blaine was nauseous, and looked intently at his hands for some kind of distraction.

"Blaine, you've been around a lot lately, not that I'm complaining! Of course we love having you here and you're always welcome, but... hey kid?" Burt lifted the boy's chin up gently.

"I need to know what's going on, because my gut tells me something isn't right, and if I convinced myself that my gut was wrong and didn't do anything about this - and it turned into something worse somehow during that time - I'd never forgive myself" Burt explained.

"Because you're a part of this family, bud - like it or not, and we protect our own."

Burt smiled encouragingly, and patted Blaine on the shoulder.

"And anything to the contrary just wouldn't be right," the older man finished.

Blaine choked back a sob, and the man looked at him with genuine concern that threatened to break down all of the walls that Blaine had put up so carefully and purposefully inside.

"I don't think I can go home," Blaine choked miserably.

"I don't think, I just can't - I can't do this anymore, sir - I just... I can't" Blaine whimpered quietly to himself as the desperate, ill fathomed words hit the calm, still air.

The silence that followed in their wake, though just a normal pause in any other conversation, seemed to last an eternity while Blaine's heart continued to break under pressure.

This was it, Blaine thought frantically.

He'd finally done it.

He'd finally ruined every good thing he had, and now there would be nothing left.

Blaine buried his face in his hands and tried to prevent himself from having to hyperventilate, but it was already a lost cause as his chest heaved painfully through the sudden lack of air.

Beside him he felt the couch raise as Burt Hummel stood up quickly, quietly, and left the room.

All Blaine heard was white noise then.

Everything he'd ever loved was gone.


End file.
